


The Lake House

by TheRedWulf



Series: Jaimsa One Shots [6]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bitch!Cersei, Character Death, F/M, Fluff, Jaimsa, Lannister Babies, Modern, Modern Era, Smut, Tissue Warning, TySan, Widow!Sansa, plot holes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-02 14:14:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20277229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRedWulf/pseuds/TheRedWulf
Summary: AU - Modern - In which Jaime cannot resist his father’s young widow...Picset is viewableHERE





	The Lake House

**Author's Note:**

> Another one shot that completely got away from me...  
This is a bit of an alternative to "Convenience", my Tysan one shot where Tywin cares for Sansa after Jaime leaves. Lots of Tysan references, so if you're not a fan of that you may not enjoy this. 
> 
> I don't consider myself a writer. This is unbeta'd so I apologize for any errors.
> 
> I will be updating open Stansa soon, life has just been.....meh.
> 
> Thank you for reading!

Jaime stood on the front porch of the secluded house that lay on the edge of the Lannisport National Forest. It was a strong, log home with large windows and stunning views of the forest and Lake Lannisport beyond. He’d only been here once before, to attend a small dinner when it was announced that his step-mother, Sansa, was pregnant.

His Father had beamed with pride, holding his young wife to his side with a warmth he would not have associated with the cold, calculating Tywin Lannister. 

That was a year ago now, and so much has changed since then. Not all of it for the better. 

_ “Jaime” the weak voice came on the other end of the line, his brain working hard to process it while waking his body from slumber. _

_ “Sansa? What’s wrong?” he sat up, rubbing his eyes in the darkness of his room. There was no good reason that his step-mother, a woman he hardly spoke a civil word with, would call in the middle of the night._

_ “He’s gone, Jaime” she said weakly, choking on a sob. “He’s gone, oh my Gods” she fell apart then, sobbing hysterically in the phone as his blood ran cold._

_ “Where are you?” he asked. _

_ “Lannisport Memorial, I came in the ambulance and---” she broke off as a raucous sounded in the back. “Cersei is here ...you need to come get her.”_

_ “You did this! You whore, you did this!!” Cersei screamed and Jaime rushed from bed and started pulling on clothes._

_ “I’m on my way” he heard her murmured ‘thanks’ as the call ended and he saw his screen light up. “Shit” he cursed, he had 6 missed calls, apparently Sansa had been trying to call him for a while. Scrambling to finish dressing he grabbed his keys and bolted out the door._

_By the time he arrived at the hospital, Sansa was sitting out front on a bench, wrapped in a coat he knew belonged to his father, clutching her swollen stomach and sobbing softly in the darkness of 2am. She looked impossibly small and so alone it pulled at his heart. Parking quickly he ran to her side._

_ “Sansa” he sat beside her and saw the swollen hand print on her cheek. “Gods, what happened?”_

_ “This was your sister” she gave a watery laugh as she motioned to her cheek. “She thinks I killed your father.”_

_ “Gods.”_

_ “I didn’t, for the record” Sansa remarked sarcastically, wiping her eyes. “We were in bed when he started having chest pain. The ambulance got there quickly, thankfully we weren’t at the lake house and were in town. But it was….it was too late.”_

_Jaime felt the hot sting of tears threaten behind his eyes and he pinched the bridge of his nose to stave off the flow. The Great Lion, Tywin Lannister, was gone. His Father was gone. Unbidden his eyes went to the swell of Sansa’s stomach and he frowned, this child would never know its Father. Gods, he didn’t even know if it was a boy or a girl, he had been so withdrawn, so angry at his Father and unable to be in the same room with Sansa without arguing her. Now it was too late. _

_ “I know that you and Cersei think I married your father for his money” she said softly. “What business does a 27 year old woman have marrying a 60 year old man, right? But I love him Jaime, deeply” she broke off on a sob and covered her mouth, breathing deeply until she had schooled her features once more. “His will is ironclad, you, Cersei and Tyrion will get everything, the company, the penthouse, Casterly Rock. I don’t want it.”_

_ “Sansa, that doesn’t matter---”_

_ “It does though” she looked him in the eye for the first time and he saw the devastation in her blue gaze. “I am not a whore, Jaime, I never was. Maybe someday you will believe that.”_

_Before he could reply Cersei emerged from the hospital, security on her heels as she ranted and raved once more. At the sight of Jaime, Cersei went hysterical, throwing herself into her twin’s arms and singing their father’s praises, as if the world had suddenly lost a Saint._

_He was so distracted with Cersei that he didn’t notice Sansa slipping away, walking quietly up the street in her maternity jeans and his father’s jacket, the slender woman mourning the loss of her husband, mourning the father that would never know his child._

The funeral had been heartbreaking, the sight of a visibly pregnant Sansa standing stoically in all-black near the casket’s head was one he would never forget. Her large sunglasses hid her face but he saw the tears on her cheeks, the clench of her jaw and wobble of her chin as she stood strong.

Not only in the face of society and the media who had turned out to make it a circus, but in the face of Cersei’s fury and wrath. He was unable to console or control Cersei, he tried to stop her as she hurled venomous words at Sansa both publicly and in private, but her fury knew no bounds. 

Sansa stood beside the grave after the others had gone and waited until the grounds crew had finished their work, her eyes ensuring that she saw every inch of her husband’s burial before she moved awkwardly forward to lay a bouquet of golden yellow and red roses on the fresh dirt. She stumbled a bit when she stood, thanks to her large stomach, but Tyrion was there to steady her, his youngest brother her only source of comfort in the world. 

Jaime wanted to go to her, to hold her and promise her that the pain would pass, but he had his hands full with Cersei and her plans to take everything from the ‘whore that killed their father’. 

In the end it hadn’t mattered, Sansa had told him the truth on the bench that night. Jaime, Cersei and Tyrion received 99.9% of the Lannister estate. The only thing they did not get was the Lake House, which had been purchased in Sansa’s name as a joint investment between husband and wife, and a sum of money that would ensure her and their child was cared for. He was ashamed to admit that it was in the meetings with the lawyers that he learned Sansa carried a baby girl. 

Cersei had wanted to take the Lake House and money from Sansa, but the lawyers assured her that there was no way to accomplish that, not without breaking the law. So instead Cersei settled for blacklisting Sansa in society and destroying her in the media. ‘Black Widow’ they dubbed Sansa, now believing the sensational story Cersei had spun about Sansa murdering their father. 

Sansa had quietly vanished from the world then, moving to the lake house hours away from the city and keeping to herself. In her solitude she was free of Cersei’s reach and he could not fault her for that.

Time passed and it wasn’t until he got a text message from Tyrion that he found himself at Sansa’s side once more. 

_ “If you care” Tyrion’s text read with the ‘shrug’ emoji. “I am with Sansa at Lannisport Memorial. Baby will be here this afternoon.”_

_Jaime had stood from his desk at Casterly Investments, pulled on his coat and flippantly told his secretary to reschedule his afternoon as he walked out. He took a cab to the hospital and when he arrived in her hospital room Sansa was laying in the bed on her side, crying softly as Tyrion slept in the chair. _

_At his arrival she frowned, quickly wiping her eyes, “Jaime” she greeted coolly, flinching as another contraction coursed through her._

_Instinctively he moved forward, taking her hand where it lay fisted in the blankets and wrapped it in his. She was shaking, he could feel, and her hand gripped his painfully tight but he held fast, offering this small comfort._

_ “Tyrion messaged you then” she reasoned hoarsely once the pain had passed. _

_ “He did” Jaime admitted. “I wouldn’t want to miss the arrival of my little sister.”_

_Her eyes went stone cold, “You already have a little sister, Jaime. One you have continually chosen over others, one that would see me and my daughter homeless or dead, so why are you here?”_

_His jaw clenched, “You shouldn’t be alone, Sansa.” _

_ She didn’t reply, only squeezed his hand tightly as pain hit her once more and this time she whimpered with the force of it. It happened fast after that, or at least it seemed like it did. Nurses and doctors came in, sparing him a glance as he held Sansa’s hand. He stood vigil with Tyrion at Sansa’s side as little Joanna Lannister joined the world. When she saw him pale at the name she shook her head._

_ “It was what we decided” she told Jaime, “Ty and I, when we found out it was a girl.” _

_He could only give a nod, the lump in his throat nearly too large to swallow._

_Sansa cried as she held her daughter for the first time, both tears of joy and sobs of sadness, “I will always have a piece of him,” she whispered, stroking Joanna’s cheek. “The very best piece of my Ty,” she marvelled._

_At that he had to escape the room, his breathing shallow at the force of emotion that hit him. His Father, a man he barely had a relationship with, was gone, and in his absence the world had a Joanna Lannister once more. The love in Sansa’s voice as she spoke of ‘Ty’ and the resolute expression she had at naming her daughter for her husband’s first wife… Gods, he ran his hands through his hair. Who did that? Was Sansa Stark-Lannister actually an angel sent to torment them? _

_He looked up as Cersei came into view, storming around the corner and Jaime shook his head, “Enough.” _

_”Where is she----” _

_ “Enough” he grabbed Cersei’s arm and strode with her from the hospital. “It’s over Cersei, leave her alone. You got everything, so leave her be.” _

Before he could knock, the door opened and he drew back, hardly recognizing the woman that stood on the other side. She was just as tall as he remembered, but somehow thinner despite her newly arrived motherly curves. 

But her hair---once a stunning, fiery auburn that fell to her waist was now white-blonde and just below her shoulders. The color brought out her bright blue eyes and porcelain skin but she looked so unlike ‘Sansa’ that he was rendered speechless. 

“Jaime” she said by way of greeting. She wore only faded jeans and a baggy sweater, one of his Father’s, one shoulder bare as well as her feet. She looked very young, he decided and so painfully beautiful. 

“Sansa” he cleared his throat. “Can I come in?” 

“Why?” she countered as cries sounded in the back and she motioned him inside and closed the door before she vanished up the stairs, leaving him in the living room. 

Sunlight filtered in from the floor-to-ceiling windows along the large balcony that overlooked the lake. The house was clean and orderly, the only mess was a pile of paperwork by Sansa’s laptop on the coffee table, a half-finished cup of tea with it. She must have been working then, he frowned, realizing that he had never read one of Sansa’s books. 

No, of course he hadn’t, he told himself. You were too busy hating the woman that married your father to concern yourself with anything beyond what Cersei had told you. Cersei had poisoned in his mind against Sansa from the very start, to the point that before he even met her he hated her on principle. He’d judged her harshly and he was very wrong. 

Footsteps sounded and he turned to see Sansa at the top of the stairs, descending carefully with the small baby in her arms. Joanna Lannister was a beautiful baby, even at two months old, her short hair a vibrant gold and her excitement contagious as she waved her arms. 

Sansa grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and moved to sit on the easy chair beside it. Covering her chest from view she situated Jo on her lap and began to breastfeed her daughter before looking to him expectantly. 

“If this makes you uncomfortable, you can leave” she told him flatly. 

“It doesn’t” he told her, unbuttoning his suit jacket to sit on the couch. It was only a partial lie. He was uncomfortable seeing her in such an intimate way, caring for her child from her own body. He hadn’t been around many new mothers--if any, and affection in general was foreign to him, so it was all fascinating. 

“Why are you here, Jaime?” she asked as she watched him, her blue eyes wary, guarded. 

Running a hand over his face he shook his head and laughed softly, “Would you believe me if I told you that I don’t know.”

“No.”

He laughed once more at her response, “I got in the car, I started driving and here I was….”

Sansa watched him closely, not trusting a word that came out of his mouth. Jaime Lannister, the stunningly handsome, smooth talking, cold-hearted bastard. No, she took that back, he wasn’t a bastard, he was just a prick. 

From the moment she’d met him, he had been antagonistic, rude and downright cold. Cersei’s hateful poisoning she would guess, but still, he was a grown man and responsible for his own behavior. 

Behavior that had hurt his father deeply. 

When Tywin first introduced her to his family, the ensuing argument had taken her by complete surprise. Yes, she was younger than Tywin but she never expected to be called a gold-digging whore, at least not to her face. Cersei made her displeasure known and in the end Tywin had escorted Sansa to her car, leaving the angry twins and an amused Tyrion behind in the restaurant. 

Tywin had been angry, not at Cersei but at Jaime who had never shown a hint of his sister’s cold heart until now. His anger faded to bitter disappointment when it became clear that Cersei and Jaime were not going to accept Sansa as Tywin’s girlfriend and then wife. 

Sansa tried, tried so hard to be nice and polite but eventually she gave up and chose to remain silent during any family events or public functions. 

Her and Tywin had married in an intensely private wedding that only Tyrion had bothered to show up to to represent the Lannister children. Sansa’s family chose simply not to attend, nor did they give any sort of blessing. 

It had been Tywin’s idea to invite Jaime, and not Cersei, to the small dinner where they would tell them that Sansa was pregnant. Tyrion had been happy for them, supportive as they always had been but Jaime had been silent, cold once more. 

_ “Tell me” Jaime asked when Tywin moved into the kitchen to check on dinner. She did not reply but met his emerald gaze in acknowledgement. “How long did it take you to seduce the Great Lion?”_

_ “Go to hell” she told him flatly, moving to stand and walk away. His hand on her arm stopped her and she turned to glare at him, “Let me go.” _

_ “Two months? Three?” he asked. “You must be very good, he was a staunch widower for 30 years.” _

_ “What is it you want me to tell you, Jaime?” she pulled her arm from his touch, hating how hot his hand felt on her arm. “You want me to tell you I am in this for the money?” she challenged. “Wrong. My last book spent a record breaking time on the top of the best seller list and it will be a major motion picture by this time next year. That I am doing it to get my hands on Casterly? I don’t want it. I love your father, and he loves me. That is all that matters. So, you and your sister can go fuck yourselves.”_

_ She moved to leave once more but he grabbed her elbow roughing pulling her back and into the wall of his chest. She felt her cheeks heat at the same time something settled in her stomach that made her feel ashamed. Filthy._

_ “I am watching you, Stark” he glared, eyes cutting through her._

_ Shoving him away from her she fixed him with a glare, “It’s Lannister,” she corrected as Tywin returned, frowning at having caught them arguing again._

And so he drifted from their lives, working alongside Tywin but not speaking beyond the call of business. 

The night that Tywin died everything seemed to pass in a haze. She had ridden in the ambulance as paramedics tried to save him but it was too late, her husband was gone and she was entirely alone. Heart attack, the ‘Widowmaker’ they called it, and she flinched at the crude term. 

She called Tyrion first and he must have told Cersei because before she could get ahold of Jaime, Cersei arrived at the hospital and all hell broke loose. Cersei called her the usual slew of names, this time accusing Sansa of murder and then slapping her in front of the entire waiting room and staff. Sansa had walked away, moving to sit out front in the cold, huddled in the jacket that still smelled of Tywin. 

After her conversation with Jaime, she walked away. Feeling so incredibly lost that she didn’t know where to go or what to do. She wandered downtown until dawn before Tyrion found her and picked her up, driving her back to the penthouse where she succumbed to her grief.

The funeral was impossible and the lawyers were a nightmare but when Cersei began to turn the media and society against her, Sansa had fled the city altogether. Moving at seven months pregnant was quite a task but she did it, she had to get away. She just wanted a peaceful life where she could mourn her husband and raise her daughter without worry.

She was shocked to see Jaime arrive during her labor, to feel his hand as it took hers to ease her pain. He stayed, holding her hand as he and Tyrion did their best to encourage her when all she wanted was her husband, her Ty. 

Joanna was the light of her life, a piece of Tywin that she could keep forever and she meant to protect her with all of her might. Through it all, Sansa had taken solace in the fact that she had Jo, a piece of the man who had been her first love, her first lover and her rock. 

After returning home to the lake house, Sansa went about her life. 

When it became apparent that her hair was a beacon to those who sought to gander at Tywin Lannister’s widow and murderer, she left Joanna with Tyrion for a few hours while she cut and dyed her hair. ‘Blonde suits you’ Tyrion had given her a sad smile and she only nodded in response. 

Her life was quiet. She worked from home, writing and caring for her daughter while the world worried about itself. Cersei had been quiet, and Sansa should have known it was too good to last, because here sat Cersei’s acolyte, in the flesh and overpriced 3-piece-suit 

They sat in awkward silence, Jaime staring out the large windows to the lake as she finished feeding Jo. Pulling the neck of the Tywin’s sweater back over her breast she moved the blanket and held Jo over her shoulder, patting her back. 

When Jo came into view Jaime’s gaze moved to the baby, watching her closely with an unreadable gaze. His hand twitched, then clenched and it sparked a memory to life from the back of her mind. 

_ “I blame myself” Tywin said softly, looking over at her across the pillows. “I wasn’t a very good father, not after Joanna died.” This was something she valued in their relationship, that they were completely open and honest with each other. There were no secrets, no ghosts, everything was on the table._

_ “What do you mean?” she asked, moving closer in the bed they shared. _

_ “I was cold, strict and aloof” he said. “I was hard on them, too hard. They didn’t know affection, not as they should. But I promise you, this time will be different” he reached out to touch the barely-there swell of her stomach. “I will be a good father to our child. No more cold distance, a true father. I promise.”_

_Smiling she covered his hand with hers, “I know, Ty.” _

Easing herself from the chair, Sansa stood and carried Jo to where Jaime sat and moved cautiously beside him. Trusting in her husband’s words and her gut, she faced her once-step-son slowly. 

“The trick is to support her head” she told him softly. “She will need your help with that, alright?” She held Jo out and Jaime looked at her in surprise. 

“Sansa--”

“Arms out” she said and he obeyed, awkwardly and she wondered if he had ever held a baby before. Carefully she transferred Jo to his arms and moved back, making sure his hand was there to support the head. “Little Jo” Sansa smiled at the baby who was looking up at Jaime with unsure eyes. “This is your big brother, Jaime. Another little lion, just like you.”

At that Jo let out a sound of happiness, waving her arms about. Sansa smiled and looked to Jaime who was watching her with the oddest expression. His green eyes that she had only seen full of cold distance were now soft, almost warm. 

“It is very fortunate that she doesn’t look much like her Father” Jaime said quietly, chuckling oddly. 

“She does this scrunchy face thing that reminds me so much of---”

“His disappointed face” Jamie finished for her. “Trust me, I know that face well.”

Sansa gave a sad smile, “He loved you very much, and he knew he was hard on you, but he was proud of you and Tyrion.”

“You don’t have to tell me that--”

“It's true” she cut him off. “I am not in the habit of lying, Jaime. I never had been. I am not the boogie man you think I am.”

“I don’t know what to think of you, Sansa” he admitted, looking from Jo to meet her gaze. “Everything was normal, boring and then suddenly there is my father with a beautiful woman young enough to be his daughter and everything changed.”

“Jaime--”

“I find myself stuck between my twin and my Father. Torn apart by memories of my mother and the--” he broke off, shaking his head and looking back to the baby in his arms. “And now he’s gone.”

“I never meant to hurt you, Jaime” she told him sincerely. “I didn’t even mean to fall in love, but I won’t apologize for loving your father.”

“You keep trying to refuse the stipend set aside for you,” he said, finally voicing what had set him off in the office and had him driving nonsensically until he was at her door. 

“I don’t need, nor do I want Ty’s money” she looked to Jo and stroked her daughter’s cheek with a gentle finger. “I will keep what he set aside for Jo, he is her father and she should have that much. But I don’t want his money, it was never about money” she turned away from him, blinking away tears and schooling her features as she stood. Sparing a look down at the man who held her daughter, she paced to the window and leaned against the cool glass. “He ever tell you how we met, Jaime?”

“No” he shook his head. “If he tried to I didn’t listen…”

She smiled softly, “He came to my book signing in Lannisport, one in a tiny hole-in-the-wall shop. He introduced himself, I had no idea who he was, but he stammered when he asked me to dinner and I couldn’t say no.”

Jaime couldn’t imagine his Father stammering, ever, but the wistful look in Sansa’s eye was impossible to deny. He hadn’t known that his Father pursued Sansa, sought her out to speak with her, to woo her. He had assumed, as most did, that Sansa pursued the Great Lion, hunting him down and seducing him.

Glancing down at the baby in his arms he was surprised to see her lips parted and eyes closed, fast asleep. 

“I will take her” Sansa’s voice was suddenly beside him and he realized that he had been so focused on Jo he hadn’t heard her approach. Sansa leaned down and the neck of her sweater gaped enough that he quickly averted his eyes, the sight of her abundant breasts burned into his memory. 

She padded quietly upstairs and he blew out a breath, standing to remove his suit coat that suddenly felt too tight, laying it over the back of the couch. He was running a hand through his hair once more when she emerged once more, a baby monitor in her hand as she descended the stairs. 

“Are you hungry?” she asked him, moving into the kitchen.

“I---uh yeah, actually” he didn’t realize it until now but he was quite hungry and the sun was beginning to set. 

“I would offer you alcohol but I don’t drink and therefore don’t have any” she paused. “If you want to check the study, there might be a bottle in there…”

He gave a small nod and made his way to his father’s study down the hall. The door was closed and upon opening it he could tell it had been closed for some time. It looked the same as it had the last time he saw it, not a single thing had been moved. He glanced at the antique desk and shelves of books, there were even papers on the desk, as if he would be back any second. 

Crossing to the small wet bar along the opposite wall he found a few dusty bottles, lifting them up to check them. As he went to replace a bottle near the back he saw a white envelope. Frowning he picked it up and saw his name in his Father’s bold handwriting. 

Setting the bottle down he moved to the wingback chair beside the fireplace and turned it over, carefully opening it. It was a handwritten letter, he was surprised to find, and something folded that fluttered to the floor. Checking the date he saw it was from the month before Tywin died. 

_ “Jaime,_

_In the oldest of cliches, if you are reading this then something has happened and I am no longer here. Ideally, I lived to the ripe old age of 115 and died surrounded by my beautiful wife and dozens of children. If I did, then this letter is likely moot. However if I did not, then please read this in its entirety. _

_I am proud of you, Jaime. More than anyone I was hard on you, to the point of cruelty and you have become an incredible man. I know that I can entrust Casterly to you and Tyrion and you will both do it justice. _

_Be careful of your sister. I hate to see her poisoning your heart and mind. She is so twisted by greed that she cannot see what is right in front of her. She refuses to see and I can no longer try to change that. In this I must choose Sansa, chose my wife and my daughter. I will protect them both, even if I am no longer with them._

_I ask of you a favor now, my son, a large one, but I feel you are up to the task. If I am gone, then I need you to help me take care of Sansa and Little Jo. Sansa is proud, stubborn, worse than you I am afraid, and she will refuse anything I leave her. It is up to you to make sure she is taken care of, protected from your sister. _

_I may be an old man, my son, but I can see it, even if you cannot. Be good to her, Jaime. She is an incredible woman and I have been privileged to love and be loved by her. To be the only one to have loved her, Jaime. She is no whore, no fortune hunter and if you were to give her a chance, I know that you will come to see her as I do._

_I love you, son. -T.L._

Jaime choked on a sob and covered his mouth to stifle the sound until he could hold it back. With a trembling hand he leaned down to pick up what had fallen to the floor, surprised to find it was a magazine clipping. Turning it over he stared at the photo for several long minutes his heart racing nearly as fast as his mind. 

It was a photo from last Christmas’ Lannister Charity Gala, the one and only time he had ever danced with Sansa. She wore a tight but modest gown of deep burgundy, her red hair gleaming in the light, both a contrast to his solid black tuxedo. Their hands were joined, almost angrily tight, and his other rest on her lower back, dangerously close to inappropriately low. They were glaring at each other, blue and green eyes alight with fire and he remembered then that they had been arguing over the ring on her finger. 

Their anger, he realized, could be mistaken for passion--for lust. If you looked beyond them you could see the Great Lion in the background, watching them with an impassive gaze. 

Looking to the caption he choked on a laugh, “Mr & Mrs Lannister share a dance”. 

“Gods, Dad” he laughed, crying softly as he folded the paper and tucked it and the photo into the envelope before tucking it in his vest pocket. It had been hidden with the alcohol because Tywin knew Sansa wouldn’t find it before it's time. Clever, but Gods it wrenched his heart. 

All he ever did with Sansa was argue, both of them trading barbs and refusing to back down. He had found her beautiful, enchanting, the first time he saw her, but that awe of her beauty melted to anger at the idea that she was using it to manipulate his father. If the Great Lion could be manipulated, that is. 

He hadn’t lied, earlier on the couch, he was stuck between his father and Cersei; between memories of his mother and lust for the woman who filled her vacancy. It tore him apart, night and day. He thought he had hidden it well, that he was able to prevent the all-knowing Lion from seeing, but he was wrong…his Father saw everything. 

The only question remained is was, was it reciprocated?

Footsteps echoed in the hall and he quickly wiped his eyes as Sansa appeared in the doorway.

“Are you okay?” she asked, thankfully not commenting on the tears on his cheeks. 

“No--yeah, but no” he gave a watery laugh.

“I haven’t been in here, not since...” she hesitantly stepped inside, her eyes lingering on the desk and the papers there. 

“Yeah, I guess I wasn’t expecting it to hit me” he smoothly said, hoping she wouldn’t push it. 

“It hits me when I least expect it” she closed her eyes on a tide of pain, looking away from him and to a framed photo on the wall. Her eyes lingered before she cleared her throat and said. “I came to ask, chicken or pasta?”

“I have no preference” he replied and then paused. “I can help you cook, if you like.”

She looked surprised at his suggestion but gave a tight nod, “Thank you” she said before she turned and retreated to the kitchen. 

Jaime stood and moved to look at the framed photograph that caught her eye as she spoke earlier. It was a large photo, 12x14” perhaps on the wall beside the Great Lion’s desk, and it was of Sansa in her wedding dress, looking positively luminous in the antique gown. It could have been a photograph from the 1930’s, the rich black and white bringing out the porcelain of her skin and the silky white fabric of her long-sleeved gown. Her back and the train of her dress was to the camera but she was looking back over her shoulder and her expression was...unreal. He hadn’t attended the wedding, at Cersei’s demand, and this was the first time he was seeing her in her dress. 

She was, and always has been, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. The serene, pure smile on her face sent a knife to his heart. This was a woman without guile, without an agenda. A woman he had grossly misjudged. 

“You should have told me you’re a terrible cook” Sansa laughed as they finished their slightly burned penne with bolognese. Sansa had been able to salvage the pasta but not the garlic bread that Jaime was in charge of watching. The sound of them rushing a smoking briquette of bread out to the back deck had woken Jo and so Sansa was eating dinner with her daughter on her arm, the babe content to watch her mother. 

“Well, now you know” he laughed, running a hand through his golden hair. As they cooked he had shed his vest, tossing it over the couch with his jacket and now was only in his dress shirt, tie loose and top buttons undone. He looked almost relaxed, nothing near the stuffy man she had come to know. 

It was interesting to see, she noted, the man behind the facade of Jaime Lannister, Young Lion and most eligible bachelor in the city. The only time she had seen him look less than impeccable was when she woke him in the middle of the night to summon him to the hospital. He had worn jeans and some hooded sweatshirt then, both wrinkled and he looked much younger than his 37 years.

“I certainly do” she shook her head and smiled down at Jo who made a noise of delight. “Indeed!” Sansa laughed at her daughter’s enthusiasm. Just then Jaime’s cell phone rang, the shrill sound echoing in the house and Sansa frowned. “That took longer than expected” she moved Jo to her chest and stood, taking her empty plate to the sink. 

Jaime also stood, pulling his phone from his pocket to answered it. He moved to the balcony and Sansa continued to clear the table as best she could with one hand. 

When Jaime returned a few moments later his smile was gone and she knew what he was about to say. Frowning to herself she looked to him, “Drive safely” she said before he could make an excuse. 

“Sansa---”

“It’s OK, Jaime,” she assured him. “Really. You have a long drive back anyway.”

He looked conflicted for a moment before he finally spoke, “I would like to do this...again. Dinner, I mean….”

“I don’t want you to feel obligated” she shook her head. “It’s OK, Jaime---”

“No, I mean it,” he replied, grabbing his jacket and vest from the couch. “We’re family and I, I enjoyed tonight.”

“Alright” she conceded as Jo fussed in her arms. “Now get out before I change her diaper” Sansa laughed and with a small smile, Jaime was gone. 

Sansa saw to Jo before tucking her in a carrier and moving her to the kitchen so she could so dishes. The house felt oddly empty once again and it made her chest ache. Why had Jaime come? She turned the thought over and over in her mind and she couldn’t reason it out. He said he didn’t know, that he had been driving and ended up here. An hour and a half away from the city, at her doorstep. Why?

Frowning to herself she carried a now sleeping Jo upstairs, setting her in the bathroom so Sansa could shower quickly while keeping an eye on her. When Jo was finally tucked into the crib in the corner of the master bedroom, Sansa relaxed into bed, staring at Tywin’s empty pillow until sleep took her. 

She didn’t expect to hear from Jaime again and she certainly didn’t expect his luxury car to pull into the driveway the following Friday afternoon. Jo was asleep when the car pulled up, so Sansa quickly saved her work and stood, crossing to the front door as Jaime emerged from the car and grabbed several bags from the back seat. 

“Jaime--”

“I have an idea” he laughed, carrying the bags up the steps to the log home. 

“An idea that involves buying out the grocery store?” she asked as he shook the rain from his hair. It was then that she noticed that he was in jeans and a sweater, a raincoat over the top. “Who are you and what have you done with Jaime Lannister?”

“Oh, shut up” he smirked, moving passed her and into the house. 

“Jo’s asleep” she warned as she closed the front door and watched him move to the kitchen. He shucked his raincoat, and set about putting the groceries away. He had an odd assortment of things and he did his best to tuck them where they belonged. 

“So I burned the bread,” he noted. 

“Cremated it” she laughed softly, leaning against the counter. 

“But I can make _mean_ nachos” he smiled and she couldn’t help but admire the green of his eyes. 

“Did I miss it? Are we back in college?” she teased. 

“No, Gods were too sober for that” he shook his head. “Trust me, it will be good.”

“Jaime, you burned bread,” she countered. 

“So?” he shoved the reusable grocery bags together and faced her once more. “Trust me.”

“Okay” she gave a small smile, wondering just what in the seven hells was going on. 

Jaime looked away from the muted television to see Sansa passed out on the couch, Jo on her chest. Sansa had crashed there earlier after complaining that she had eaten far too much of his secret recipe of buffalo chicken nachos, and promptly fell asleep. 

Jo had watched him for a while before she too passed out, snuggled to her mother’s chin. From his vantage point in the easychair he could see the curve of Sansa’s jaw and the elegant height of her cheekbones. Even with her hair bright blonde she was stunning. 

He would never tell her that he missed the red, the curtain of fire that used to hang to the small of her back and ripple like silk as she moved. She had donated it, she said, but he still missed it. Good cause or not. 

He’d done a lot of thinking in the near week since he’d last seen her. His father’s words echoed in the letter that he’d unfortunately misplaced. It didn’t matter, he’d found the article and image of him and Sansa online, and his father’s wounds running on repeat through his mind. 

Tywin Lannister, the man who missed nothing had certainly seen through Jaime. He always had, as a matter of fact. In school he saw through Jaime’s struggles to read and helped him to make sense of the letters. At work he saw through Jaime’s misery and continually offered him different positions until Jaime found his niche in marketing and advertising. 

His eyes traveled to Sansa once more. Even in this Tywin saw though him. Saw through Jaime’s anger and bitterness to the root of the problem. His unwavering, unexpected affection for Sansa Lannister. 

He slowly stood, careful not to wake her and crossed to the great windows, watching the rain pour across the lake. It was peaceful here and it helped to calm his mind. 

He knew now that he’d unknowingly broken the damn with showing up the first time, there would be no stopping his visits here. He would constantly find himself drawn back to Sansa’s side until she forced him away. 

Perhaps she’d even serve him with the same restraining order she’d served to Cersei, he shook his head. Tyrion had _loved_ that. 

Jo stirred and with her Sansa, drawing his attention back to the pair on the couch. 

“It’s raining” Sansa mumbled softly as she glanced to Jo. 

“Storm, I’d suppose” Jaime agreed. 

“Don’t drive back tonight” Sansa sleepily sat up. “It’s too dangerous in this weather. There’s a spare bedroom you can use, though I can’t promise she’ll sleep through the night. She’s only 10-weeks old.”

“I don’t mind” he assured her and she gave a small, sleepy nod, smoothing a hand over her face. “Do you want me to carry her?”

“I think I’m okay” she said quietly. “Thank you though.”

“There’s no need to thank me, Sansa” he told her, moving to help her stand. 

“I’ll see you in the morning then” she whispered, only a scant few inches between them as she rose to her full height. 

“In the morning” he repeated, watching her walk away and up the stairs until she was no longer in sight. 

It was nearly 4am when Sansa awoke to Jo’s cries. Sleepily, she rose from bed and moved to the crib in the corner, smiling down at her daughter despite being desperately tired. 

Unbuttoning her sleep shirt, one of Tywin’s, she bent and up scooped Jo up before moving back to the bed. Laying on her side she lay her daughter’s small body beside her and helped her to latch on, nursing happily. 

Sansa sighed, grateful for the relief in her own body, which was working overtime to keep her daughter fed. 

A creak in the doorway had her turning her head to see the half-asleep, half-naked form of Jaime looking in on her. He was obviously not fully awake, as she was only in her open sleep shirt and he didn’t seem to notice. 

She however, had a lovely view of Jaime in his boxer briefs, the black material clinging to powerful thighs. He was all lean muscle and golden skin, a light coating of hair across his chest and legs. He was a man who took care of himself and it showed in his person. 

“She’s okay?” Jaime mumbled. 

“Yeah” Sansa smiled. “She is just hungry, go back to sleep.”

“M‘Kay” he gave a nod and wandered back down the hall, leaving her in awkward silence as she wondered if he would remember their encounter. 

By 7am she had her answer. Jaime had no memory of coming to the door last night. She waited for him to mention it, or ask about it while they made a small breakfast, but he clearly had no recollection. 

It was better this way, she told herself. Less awkward and fewer questions, she supposed. It was certainly easier without the complication of him seeing her nearly naked and visa-versa. 

This time Jaime did the dishes while she relaxed with Jo on the couch, and when it was time for him to leave she walked him to the door and he surprised her by leaning down to kiss, first Jo’s forehead, and then her own cheek. 

“Until next time” he gave his signature smirk as he went back to his car. 

“Next time,” Sansa said to herself as he drove away. When was that?

Somehow, it became a habit. Sansa’s solitary life was now punctuated with near-weekly visits from Jaime. Usually it was on the weekend, a Friday or Saturday, where he would arrive with food or some sort and more often than not they would talk later into the evenings and he would take up his residence in the spare room. 

Time passed, and when Jo was several months old, Sansa moved her to the nursery across the hall from the master bedroom. Spring had arrived and the world around the lake house seemed to burst into bloom. 

In the midst of her first round of spring cleaning, she was gathering linens and sheets she decided to wash the ones from the spare bedroom as well. It had taken her aback, when she entered the room to see a pair of Jaime’s sneakers on the floor near the foot of the bed, a sweatshirt on the chair and a suit hanging in the closet. 

She had no idea why she did it, she couldn’t even attempt to rationalize it, but she felt herself set aside the laundry basket and move forward to lift the sweatshirt. King’s University, of course, she scoffed. Lifting it further she raised the fabric to her nose, smelling the deep musk of Jaime’s cologne and---Sansa thrust the fabric away from her, tears filling her eyes. 

Rushing from the room she dropped the laundry basket in the hall before ducking into her room, careful not to wake Jo, and sobbed. Leaning against the wall beside the bed she slid to the carpet. Her husband had only been gone a year, what was she doing?

She was letting herself become attached to Jaime and that would only lead to more pain, more problems. He had somehow wheedled his way into her life and become an odd sort of constant. She’d come to look forward to his visits, to their talks that went late into the night and the peaceful breakfasts they now shared on the back deck.

_ “I am so sorry, Ty”_ she said over and over, begging forgiveness from the husband she missed every day. 

She lay on the carpet, crying softly until Jo’s cries trumped her own and she had to force herself to her feet. She had to keep moving, that was how she had survived this far. She had to keep her mind busy and then Jaime Lannister wouldn’t be able to take up residence in her thoughts. 

“She’ll be taller than me soon” Tyrion laughed and smiled at Jo where she was happily entertaining herself standing in front of where Sansa sat on the couch, little hands braced on her mom’s knees. 

“Well both of her parents are tall. She will be 12-months saturday, I was going to make her a little cake to smash” Sansa said softly, smiling down at her little beauty who seemed to be growing so fast. Jo’s blonde ringlets had begun to grow and had to darken into the same shade as Tywin’s blonde hair. Ever the Lannister, Jo’s eyes had even melted from their bright blue to a vibrant emerald green. 

“12-months” Tyrion chuckled. “Just say a year old, seems easier.”

“I suppose” Sansa smiled at the small form of Tyrion, the man who had become a very good friend to her. They had talked in depth of his struggles growing up with achondroplasia, with Tywin as his father and in the shadow of Jaime’s perfection. In turn, she had told him about growing up under Catelyn Stark’s cold, controlling care and how reading and writing had been her escape from that world. She appreciated his insight and honesty and he appreciated her listening.

She didn’t tell him however, about Jaime’s sudden appearance in her life, or the growing attachment she felt to the Young Lion. She couldn’t find words to voice the thoughts, and even if she could have, they would have terrified her. 

In the darkness of her bedroom she would wonder if she was attached to Jaime because she missed Tywin. She did still miss her husband, even as she came to terms that he was gone. But there was nothing in this world that could replace him, he was far too unique a man. Just as Jaime was unique in his own way. 

She had long ago realized how different Jaime was from his Father. While Tywin was quiet, imposing or even outwardly cold, Jaime had this smooth confidence that clung to him even when he traded his suits for jeans. Combined with his easy, charming smile, she could see why he was so well-liked in the upper echelons of society. No, while they were father and son, Tywin and Jaime were far from the same. They were night and day, stone and swagger.

The issue of telling Tyrion was resolved, however, when the sound of familiar car pulling into the drive broke into her thoughts. It was only Thursday, Jaime was early. Jaime, however, didn’t seem to mind, he simply walked in with groceries and made himself at home as usual. 

Sansa noticed Tyrion watching in fascination as Jaime put the groceries away in the kitchen as if he’d lived there for years. Folding the bags and shucking his jacket, Jaime then came to greet Jo, who screeched and babbled in joy at seeing him. 

“Munchkin” Jaime scooped the happy toddler up and noisily kissed her cheek before sitting on the floor with her, his legs out so she could stand between them. He helped her to stay steady, her hands in his. It had surprised Sansa how _natural_ Jaime was with Jo, despite her being the first baby he had ever held or spent time with. 

“Well now” Tyrion looked to Jaime. “What are _you_ doing here?”

“Am I not allowed to visit?” Jaime countered, making faces at Jo who continued to babble in happiness. It made Sansa smile to watch her daughter interact with Jaime, it was clear that Jo was attached to him. She only hoped that this wouldn’t be a problem down the line.

“That’s not what I said, I’m just dreadfully curious” Tyrion looked to Sansa and she felt her cheeks heat, though there was nothing untoward happening. 

“Jaime and I have been working to repair bridges long burned” Sansa found her voice. “We’re family, though an odd one.”

“How long has this been going on?” Tyrion asked, looking to Jaime who shrugged. 

“Few months” Jaime replied. 

_Ten months_ Sansa thought to herself. Longer, technically, but long enough to be a habit.

“Does Cersei know?” Tyrion asked Jaime bluntly and Sans didn’t miss the older man’s flinch. 

“No” Jaime said resolutely. 

“Good” Tyrion smiled.

Tyrion waited until Sansa was carrying a sleepy Jo upstairs for her nap before he turned to smirk at his older brother who was moving to take up residence in the easy chair. 

“Did Father know?” Tyrion asked without preamble, seeing no sense in beating around the bush. 

“What?” Jaime’s eyes went wide. 

“Did Tywin know you’re in love with Sansa?” Tyrion asked and Jaime’s answering glare was murderous. 

“Tyrion---”

“When have you ever held a baby? Kissed one? Driven hours out of your way to ‘visit’,” Tyrion crossed his arms. “A year ago you couldn’t stand to be in the same room as Sansa. Now you’re delivering groceries. Hell, Jaime I didn’t even know you grocery shopped!”

“He knew” Jaime said quietly, standing abruptly to pace to the windows. “He never said, but he knew. He left me a letter.”

Tyrion looked shell-shocked, “A letter that said _what_?”

Jaime shook his head, “It doesn’t matter.”

Tyrion watched his brother closely, pondering how truly out of sorts Jaime seemed. Sure he looked lighter, happier in the jeans and henley, but his eyes were still guarded and there was definitely something that he wasn’t seeing.

Frowning deeply Tyrion asked the difficult question, “And what do you plan to do when Cersei finds out?”

“Protect Sansa and Jo” Jaime said without pause and Tyrion’s eyes went wide. “I mean it” Jaime assured him at his shocked expression. 

“I hope so, I truly do” Tyrion said sadly as Sansa reappeared at the top of the stairs, a smile on her face.

Hours later found them on the back desk, relaxing at the large wooden table they had just eaten dinner at. They were laughing as Tyrion told a story from their childhood, Jo chattering along with them from her perch on Jaime’s lap. 

It was nice to see Sansa laughing again, Tyrion noticed. He had been very worried about her, not only because of Tywin’s passing, but because of how hard the move had been on Sansa when she was pregnant and how difficult Cersei made things for a long time. She was too young to let herself lay down and die beside her husband, no matter how much she loved him, and she was too kind to have someone like Cersei ruining her life. 

Glancing to Jaime, he saw that Jaime wasn’t paying much attention to anything except the little girl on his lap, one who was poking his cheeks and laughing at his silly faces. He had never imagined that Jaime would have children, but he was surprisingly at ease with Jo. And Jo was very much at home on Jaime’s lap, making Tyrion wonder just how often Jaime was out here. 

As the sun set on the lake, Jo began to fuss and reach for Sansa. Sansa smiled, taking Jo into her arms with a practised move, wrapping her large blanket shawl over her chest to keep Jo warm, and preserve Sansa’s modesty, while she nursed. 

To Tyrion’s surprise, this also didn’t phase Jaime. Jaime only gave a soft smile, making sure that Jo’s feet were covered before he ducked inside and poured two fingers of whisky into two highball glasses, handing one to Tyrion before he retook his chair beside Sansa. 

“It really is beautiful here” Jaime mused aloud as he watched the sunset, a rich fiery orange shining across Lake Lannisport. 

“I knew the moment I saw the house that it was perfect for a family” Sansa replied, pausing to look down at Jo and then the two brothers. “Guess I was right.” 

Sansa woke with a start, sitting bolt upright in the silence of the house. Silence. Looking to the clock it read 9:04...Shit!

“Jo!” she gasped, shoving the covers away and stumbling from bed and across the hall. She felt sick at the empty crib until she heard the soft voices reaching her from downstairs. Moving quickly, uncaring that she was only in a baggy nightshirt she ran downstairs, heaving a sigh of relief at the sight of Jaime relaxing on the back deck, Jo in his arms. 

The large sliding glass doors to the house were open and it was as if the house opened onto the water itself, this time with a man and child enjoying the early morning sunshine. They had been up late with Tyrion last night, and after wishing him a safe trip home crashed in their respective rooms. She was surprised Jaime had stayed, given that it was only Friday, but she wasn’t complaining.

“There’s Mom!” Jaime said when Jo spotted Sansa. 

“You scared me” she admitted softly, her heart still racing as she moved to the adirondack chair beside him and sat down, pulling the throw over her legs. 

He frowned, “I’m sorry, I didn’t think” he began. “I was awake and peeked in on her. She was already standing up waiting. I took care of her diaper and I know you have breastmilk in the fridge and I brought some cheerios and peaches which she seemed to enjoy.” 

“Jaime” she smiled over at him. “Thank you. I haven’t slept past 9am in a very long time.”

“Being a Mom is tough” he chuckled. “I don’t have to be at work until Monday, I figured I would stay the weekend, if that is alright. It is a certain little munchin’s birthday on Sunday.”

“That’s fine” Sansa laughed and nodded. “There is a spring festival in town this weekend. I was going to take Jo tomorrow, get her used to large gatherings.”

“Sounds fun” Jaime agreed. 

“Are you sure you want to stay?” she asked softly. “I know that the city---”

“There is nowhere else I’d rather be” he promised, his green eyes so full of honesty she could only nod. 

“Alright.”

Jaime had never expected to find himself at the Annual Lannisport Cherry Blossom Festival, but here he was, and he was actually enjoying himself as they walked with the crowd, stopping occasionally to glance at an artists booth or admire the plants on display. It was combined with an Art & Wine festival, bringing out all sorts of artisans and a slew of tourists. 

Sansa was at his side, close due to the crowd, wearing skinny jeans and a flowing top of some sort with a thin cardigan. Her blonde hair in a small braid over one shoulder and covered with a rather dapper wide-brimmed fedora to keep her face in the shade. Jaime had settled on his usual weekend fair of dark jeans, a t-shirt and his ancient leather jacket he had never been able to part with, his own hair hidden with a baseball cap. Jo was in overalls and a pink shirt, watching the world from the shade of her comfy stroller. 

“I don’t know” Sansa laughed at a display of rather gaudy feather boas. “I think this is totally you.”

“Lime green was never my color” he laughed, shaking his head. She had a rather keen sense of humor, he found, something that he never would have guessed the first time he met her all those years ago.

They continued walking and when a group of teenagers jostled Sansa he placed a hand on her lower back to steady her, glaring after the rushing kids. 

“Thank you” she smiled. 

“Of course” he smiled back, hating the way his heart raced at her proximity. 

“Oh look!” she beamed at a small stand selling old fashioned gourmet ice cream. “Come on” she laughed and guided him to the stand, quickly ordering a scoop of their honey & lavender. “Jaime?” she smiled. 

“Peach tea, please” he ordered, thanking Sansa as she paid for the treats. Cups in hand, they moved to a shaded bench, turning the stroller to face them as they sat. 

“Sorry, love” Sansa told Jo. “No whole milk and sweets for you just yet.”

“I thought you were going to make her a cake?” Jaime asked. 

“I am, just not one with whole milk and gallons of sugar” Sansa smiled, eating a spoonful of her ice cream. “Oh this is so good! Try it,” she pushed the cup in his direction and he tried a small bit. 

“Not bad” he shrugged. “It's no peach-- hey!” he pulled his cup away as Sansa tried to steal some of his ice cream. 

“You’re not teaching Jo that sharing is caring, Jaime!” Sansa laughed. 

“Fine” he gave an exaggerated sigh and she smiled, taking some of his ice cream. “Playing dirty, using the baby to get to me.”

“Not bad” she shrugged, mocking him. They ate in companionable silence and once Jaime tossed their empty cups into the garbage, Jo made it known that she wanted to be out of the stroller. “Here” Sansa grabbed a sun hat from the diaper bag. “All you Lannisters are so fair” she put it over Jo’s blonde curls before unbuckling her. However when Sansa lifted her, Jo leaned to Jaime, waving her arms for his attention. 

“I knew it” Jaime chuckled, taking the toddler and settling her on his hip. “I'm her favorite.”

“Yeah, yeah” Sansa sighed, piloting the stroller as they resumed their walk once more. 

Jaime wasn’t a fool, he was aware of what they looked like, what the artist Sansa bought a pretty dragonfly charm necklace from thought, a happy family out for the day. Jo was his blood, afterall, there was no reason not to mistake her for his daughter. The thought, the idea of them as a family sat in the back of his mind all day, making him both incredibly happy and incredibly sad. 

He prayed over and over that he wasn’t walking into more heartache than he could withstand. 

Sansa could hardly believe that a year ago she had been giving birth to the precious girl on her lap. Time had seemed to fly by, everything was a blur as she looked back. Tywin had been gone well over a year now and she still felt his loss acutely. 

She wished more than anything that he would have been able to meet Jo, the beautiful girl that had created together. He would have adored her, from her golden ringlets to her emerald eyes, she was every bit a Lannister beauty. 

Jaime had presented Jo with a bag of toys, spoiling her as usual, and surprising Sansa that he had remembered the date enough to shop ahead. They shared a nice dinner, Jo babbling from the high chair, messily feeding herself. 

“Thank you, Jaime” Sansa said sincerely. “I was worried, very worried, when Ty---when Tywin passed that I was going to be the only one that Jo had in the world.”

“You and Jo have Tyrion and I both” he assured her. “I made mistakes, a lot of mistakes, but I promise you now that I am not going anywhere.”

She gave a nod, “I believe you.”

Jaime was engrossed in a marketing return report when the door to his office slammed open, banging against the wall behind the door. He turned to see Cersei in the entrance, fire in her eyes and a stack of papers---no, newspapers in her hand. 

“Cersei---”

“How dare you!” she screeched, throwing the papers in his face. 

“What?” he stood, scrambling to grab the papers as they scattered to the floor. 

“That _whore_ kills our father and you---you run to her side!” Cersei yelled and he looked to the papers. All of the tabloids and society pages had photos of him and Sansa at the festival. Them eating ice cream, him holding Jo, him with his hand on Sansa’s back. His stomach turned at the title “A Lioness Once More?” on the society page, their caption hinting that Sansa was seducing Jaime now that Tywin was gone. He felt sick---no, angry, he was damned angry. 

“Cersei---”

“I should have taken everything from her when I had the chance!” Cersei interrupted. “Maybe that little tramp would have died a homeless wreck!!”

“Cersei” Jaime’s voice was as hard as ice as he barked at her. “Enough!” Cersei drew up short, glaring at him sharply. “This vendetta, this war against Sansa ends now.” 

“Jaime” Cersei countered. “You betrayed me” she grabbed the papers and held one up in front of him. Staring back at him was a photo of Sansa and Jaime standing close--too close, both of them smiling at each other while Jo slept on his shoulder in her sun hat.

“Did you have me followed?” he glared at his twin. “Did you do this?”

“You betrayed---”

“Enough, Cersei!” he slammed his hand down on the table. “Sansa has done nothing, _nothing_ to deserve your ire, your hatred.”

“She killed our father, or have you forgotten that?” Cersei argued. 

“No, I haven’t forgotten that our Father is gone” Jaime admitted. “But I also know that Sansa has done nothing wrong. She did nothing but love him---”

“Loved his money!”

“Loved _him_” Jaime stated, his tone booking no argument. “She signed over her stipend, Cersei, it’s done.”

“And what about you?” Cersei asked, her eyes defiant. “Is she fucking you, brother?”

“What bothers you Cersei” Jaime turned to stare her down. “That I ended up with more of the estate than you? Or that I would rather fuck Sansa than you?” When she paled me moved around his desk, pleased when she moved back. “Don’t think I don’t know about you and cousin Lancel, sister. Or is it cousin Martyn these days? I may be stupid but I am not _bloody stupid_.”

“Jaime---”

“You’re done, Cersei” he told her, his tone laced with warning. “You’re done threatening Sansa, you’re done stalking her and you’re done manipulating me” he glared. “I missed out on the last two years of _my father’s_ life because of you. I let you poison my mind, tear me from my family, because of what? Some misguided vendetta?”

“That whore tore our family apart!” Cersei glared. 

“No, Cersei” Jaime shook his head. “You had that honor. It ends now. You will cease your public humiliation and attacks on Sansa or I will release information about your torrid _internal_ affairs to the media you seem to love so much.”

“You wouldn’t dare” she challenged. 

“Try me” he met her glare with his own. 

“That Stark---”

“It’s Lannister” he echoed Sansa’s words from so long ago and he felt his last ties to Cersei break, freeing him from her claws. It was done. All of it. Done. And the only thing he wanted ...was her.

Sansa was humming softly as she finished up her spring cleaning before Jaime was due to arrive for the evening---or weekend, depending on his schedule.

She was sorting out the couch cushions and making sure everything was in order. As she moved a throw from the back of the couch she saw a piece of paper deep in the pillows. Frowning she grabbed it to find a wrinkled white envelope with Jaime’s name on the front. The writing was Tywin’s, there was no mistaking that.

Pausing with her hand on the fold of the envelope she bit her lower lip. Clearly this belonged to Jaime ...but it was from Tywin…

Opening the envelope she pulled the paper out, noticing the clipping that fell to the couch. She moved to the cushions, reading each line. Her smile faded to tears, and then to sobs as she read Tywin’s words. 

When she finished and picked up the paper from the couch, an article clipping of her and Jaime, her sobs broke into gut-wrenching cries, her heart, mind and body all in conflict. 

She felt horrible, Tywin having seen the attraction she had to Jaime, the sexual tension that bounced between them. She felt guilty for feeling that way. The image of Tywin watching her and Jaime cut through her chest, making her feel like she had betrayed their vows. 

Tywin’s words had told Jaime that she was not a whore, that she had been untouched when they met and it was true. She had known no man but Tywin Lannister. It was stupid, it was old fashioned but she wanted to belong to her husband and only her husband on her wedding night. And she had. Tywin Lannister had taken her virginity, all the while being condemned by those around him for being taken by a seductress. 

Her husband, strong and kind as he was, he had written a letter to the man he entrusted to care for his wife and daughter after he was gone. He had asked Jaime to care for her, to care for Jo and now she had no idea if what she felt was real or if it was a by-product of obligation. 

Looking to the clipping she read the caption, “Mr & Mrs. Lannister” she choked on a cry and covered her mouth, aware that her daughter was asleep upstairs. She remembered that dance as if it were yesterday, the feel of his hands...the warmth…---

_Sansa smiled across the ballroom as best she could, biting back the tears that burned in the back of her eyes. The party was almost over, she told herself. Almost over. Beside her she felt Tywin squeeze her hand and then he was looking back at her, assuring her with his warm green eyes that they would be alright. _

_Cersei had already made her scene and stormed from the party, leaving an embarrassed Sansa on Tywin’s arm doing her best to hold her chin high. From the side of the Christmas gala she could see Jaime, watching her with sharp eyes from the dark corner of the bar._

_Like Cersei, Jaime hated her, though he was a bit more subtle about it. Mostly._

_As she watched, he threw back the last of his whisky and stood from the bar, stalking towards her. Her stomach dropped at the predatory look in his eyes the cold calculation that had her very unsettled._

_ “Dance with me” he demanded more than asked and Tywin’s head jerked to his son’s. “It will help undo the damage that Cersei has done” Jaime reasoned, raising his hand and Sansa felt Tywin slowly release her fingers. _

_No, she yelled internally, begging her husband not to release her. As her fingers slipped free they found their way to Jaime’s, hesitating at his heated touch. He led her to the dancefloor, taking her hand in a bruising grip as his hand moved to her back._

_ “Jaime” she whispered as the music began. He led her with sleek confidence, the eyes of the entire room upon them. She put on her best smile but below the surface she was seething. She didn’t want to be here, on display in front of everyone._

_ “Come, Mrs. Lannister” Jaime’s cold eyes met hers. “You must be happy, you’ve gotten everything you could have wished for this Christmas.” His words were furious but his expression was pleasant, a trait he inherited from his father, who was able to look impassive as all times. Jaime, however, had a habit of clenching and grinding his jaw when he was angry. _

_ “Jaime--” _

_ “Married, pregnant” he paused as he twirled her and she moved back into his arms, this time his hand dangerously low on her back and she felt short of breath. “And my mother’s ring on your hand.”_

_ She wanted to punch him. Land a hit right in his perfect jaw and perfect teeth. A flash distracted her from somewhere on the right, nearly breaking her facade, “And you, Jaime, are assuredly going to receive nothing but coal this year.” _

That day, the one where Jaime showed up and she found him crying in the study, was that when he had found the letter? Before? After? She had no idea and it tore her apart. 

“Ty” she sobbed, clutching her chest and she begged for guidance. “What do I do, Ty? Help me...help me, baby please” she cried over and over again into the dim light of the house. 

Just then the motion lights clicked on outside as a car pulled into the driveway. The bright lights illuminating the sleek black car she knew all too well. A luxury car that had no right to visit her as often as it did, but she longed for it all the same.

“Ty…” she whispered to herself, standing from the couch. “I will always love you, always, but--” she spoke aloud as the sound of Jaime’s footsteps on the porch reached her. The door opened a few seconds later, this time to a Jaime still clad in his suit, his hair a mess and eyes worried. “Jaime…”

“Sansa” he locked the door behind him and moved to her side, freezing when he saw the papers in her hand. 

“I read it” she admitted softly. 

“And?” he prompted. 

“Why are you here, Jaime” she asked, her heart pounding painfully. 

“Because I want to be” he replied smoothly. “We’re family and ---”

“And what?” she argued, moving away from him. 

“Sansa, please” he pleaded. “You have to know…”

“No” she shook her head. “I don’t know anything anymore!” she moved back, towards the kitchen. “I know that you’re here, you’re always here and I don’t know what is real” she waved the letter in her hand. “This! Is this why you’re here?!”

“No!” he answered quickly. “You know damn well I was already here before I could have found it!”

“Then why?” she asked, running a hand through her hair, hating the blonde that had come to face her in the mirror. 

“You _know_ why” he countered. 

“I don’t know! Everything is so complicated, my mind is a mess. You hated me and I thought I hated you---”

“I never hated you” he cut in. “Never.”

“And I never hated you” she admitted softly, looking to the letter in her hand and the photo of them together. “And he knew….”

“You never betrayed him, Sansa” he assured her. 

“I never would have, I loved him!” she cried hysterically, throwing the papers onto the table but they skittered across it and onto the floor on the opposite side. She didn’t even flinch. 

“No one is questioning that, Sansa” he countered. “I’m just asking that you find room in your heart to love me, too.”

“Why? Because he asked you in a _letter_ to take _care_ of me?” She spat. “I won’t be your obligation, Jaime!”

“No, Gods damn it, because I’m in love with you, you infuriating, stubborn woman!” he all but yelled and Sansa was grateful that Jo was asleep. “I have been since that first damned moment you walked in with my Father! I was angry, resentful and bitter, and because of it I treated you abhorrently! Gods know I was a shit to you and I came to your defense nearly too late. But I was never inconstant in my affection or my want of you!”

She stood frozen, staring at him across the room, her heart racing at the fire in his emerald eyes. It was as if she were seeing him, the true him, laid bare for the first time. Jaime Lannister, a man worth more money than the Queen stood before her, his eyes pleading with her to love him. 

She swallowed a lump of emotion, her mind scattered as she tried to make sense of everything—no, not everything, just when--when? 

She’d always been aware of Jaime, her skin hyper-sensitive to his touch, of his presence but she had pushed it aside. Now…now there was no reason to push it aside. 

When had she begun to fall in love with him? From that first day when he arrived unannounced only to hold her daughter and cry in his father’s study? Or the day he showed up with ingredients for nachos...later?

It didn’t matter, she took a shaky breath. They were here now, now it was time to look the truth in the face. 

Jaime had rushed from the office after his confrontation with Cersei, anxious to see Sansa and make sure that she was alright. He had never threatened his sister before and he could count the number of people he _had_ threatened on one hand. He had been strangely rattled by it and simply wanted to be near Sansa. 

While he had expected her to be upset, he hadn’t imagined that he would find her holding Tywin’s letter. Now everything was in the open, all of it. No more secrets. Today would make or break everything.

He watched her, taking in every detail as she processed the new information. He could tell she had lost track of time, as she wore only a pair of faded jeans and a cropped v-neck shirt that bared a little of her midriff as she moved. Her hair was in a sloppy bun, traces of mascara on her porcelain cheeks. She was still stunning and he ached to hold her. 

He reached up to run a hand through his now messy hair and it was as if his moving broke the tension, suddenly she was moving. 

Her arms went around him in the same instant his banded around her, their lips meeting as he lowered his and she raised hers. This was no chaste meeting of mouths, but a feral, all-consuming kiss that changed everything. Lips parted, tongues tangled and he held her tighter. Thanks to her cropped shirt his hands easily found the bare skin of her back, savouring the silken feel as she mewled against his mouth. The passion, the lust that had always simmered beneath the surface had broken free, washing over them both. 

He could feel her hands in his hair, the curves of her pressed against him and he wanted nothing more than to take her, right here on the couch, table, floor, any of it--all of it. But the sound of Jo waking from the baby monitor on the coffee table had them pulling back, panting for air. 

“I’ll get her” Jaime smiled, kissing her softly before he stepped back and discarded his jacket before going upstairs. Jo was standing in her crib, crying softly but her frown turned to a smile when she saw him, “There’s my girl” he scooped her up and kissed her cheek. “I missed you,” he smiled and she nuzzled into his neck as carried her back downstairs. 

Sansa was where he left her, fingers absently touching her lips until she heard him and she turned to face him. Her eyes were dark, full of emotion as she watched them. 

“There’s Mom” he smiled, leaning over to kiss Sansa briefly. Now that he was free to do so, he was never going to stop kissing or touching her. 

“Jaime” Sansa said softly and he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. His girls in his arms, he had never felt so content. “I love you, Jaime Lannister” she looked up at him, smiling brightly, lips swollen from their kiss. 

“Good” he smirked and she laughed. “It will make it easier to convince you to marry me.”

“Jaime!” she squealed in laughter as he hauled her close for one more kiss. Jo laughed along, bouncing happily in his arms. 

“But first,” he stated. “Dinner time!”

As was their new tradition, they had eaten dinner on the deck and were relaxing beside the lake in their side-by-side adirondack chairs, hands clasped on the arms. Jo was on Jamie’s lap until she began to fuss for Sansa, and Jaime passed her over carefully. 

Sansa moved aside the flannel shirt she’d pulled on against the light chill and when she grabbed the throw from the back of the chair, she paused. Glancing to Jaime, who was looking at the lake, his profile strong and chiseled, she took a breath and wrapped Jo in the blanket on her lap, moving her t-shirt over her shoulder to bare her breast. The evening air felt odd on her bare skin but Jo latched quickly, settling against her with a contented whimper. There was no need to hide anymore.

She felt Jaime’s hand slip into hers and she turned to see Jaime watching Jo, a small smile on his lips. 

“You’re incredible” he whispered. “The Mother made real.” 

“I heard you, earlier” she smiled. “When you were in her room. You called her ‘my girl’,” she swallowed back tears. “You’re so good with her…”

“I love her” he smiled. “She is a part of you, how could I not?” he reasoned. “I know that Tywin will always be her father, as he will always be mine. But maybe, maybe I could be her Dad.”

Sansa felt tears escape her eyes as she swallowed a sob, “You’d want that?”

“I want everything with you, Sansa” he raised her hand to kiss the back. “Everything you’ll give me.”

“Everything” she whispered, her heart racing. “I like that.”

They sat on the desk until it was time to tuck Jo to bed. Together they moved inside, and Jaime watched her from the doorway as she tucked a sleeping Jo into bed and when she bent to kiss her daughter’s forehead, this time she turned and moved into his arms. 

He kissed her forehead, holding her as they watched Jo for a few minutes. 

“Come” Sansa whispered, taking his hand. 

“Sansa” he said quietly as she lead him across the hall to her room. “As much as I want you, I don’t expect---”

“I know” she smiled, squeezing his hand in reassurance. Her room was dim, lit only from the small lamp beside her vanity. She closed the door partway, wanting to keep an ear out for Jo, just in case. Her hand trembled as she raised it to run over the soft fabric of his dress shirt. 

His hand came up to cup her cheek briefly, then moved to pull the tie from her hair, running his hands through the length. 

“I miss the red” he gave a soft smile. “It was so incredibly beautiful--you are so incredibly beautiful” he pulled her close. 

“I miss it too” she admitted. She had missed it for a long time now. Blonde was lovely, but the red made her feel more like herself.

“My Sansa” he whispered reverently, as if her name were a prayer, leaning in to kiss her. She rose on her toes to meet him, sliding her arms to wrap around his shoulders. Their passion flared to life once more, fire rushing through her at his touch. So long she had denied it, refused to admit the attraction she felt for him.

He crouched a bit and then his hands were under her thighs, lifting her to wrap around his waist. He carried her to the bed, laying her on the covers before settling atop her, never breaking their kiss. She felt his desperation and met it with her own. 

Her hands went to his shirt, working the buttons free until she could push it away and attack his undershirt. He sat up quickly, discarding his dress shirt and undershirt before taking the hem of her shirt and pulling it over her head. Nursing bras weren’t the sexiest of lingerie but the way his eyes darkened let her know that he didn’t mind one bit. 

She was sure her eyes were just as dark, drinking in the hard planes of his chest and stomach. Her hand reached out of its own accord, lightly touching the soft golden hair on his chest, trailing down to where it vanished into his waistband. 

She felt her cheeks heat when she realized that his arousal was visible beneath the fabric of his trousers. He truly did want her, she smiled, looking up at him--- “Oh” she frowned. “I don’t have...birth control, of any type” she said sadly. 

“I--uh” he scrambled for his wallet from his back pocket and rifled through it, grabbing a condom that was only slightly bent and checking the date. “It’s been in there a while” he chuckled. “But we’re okay--I think. I will get more, tomorrow” he tossed it on the bed and his wallet to the floor before moving back to rid her of her bra. 

“Jaime” she gasped as he lowered to trail kisses across her breasts. Her hand went to his head, smoothing then grabbing the golden locks to bring his lips back to hers. They shared deep, heated kisses while the rest of their clothes were removed and sent to the piles on the floor. When his hand delved into her core she moaned, his fingers deftly finding her clit and circling it. She was already embarrassingly wet and she didn’t want to wait to have him. 

“You are perfection” he kissed across her chin as he reached for the foil packet. “I will devour you later, but right now I need to be inside you.” 

“Yes” she agreed, watching him roll the latex over his thick length. Jaime Lannister was a hell of a man, she bit her lip as she drank in his naked form. He came back to her, settling between her thighs. “Slow” she pleaded as he took himself in hand. “At first…” she asked and he nodded. 

He coated his tip in her moisture before he found her entrance and eased himself inside of her. She clung to his shoulders, feeling him stretch her until his hips were pressed to hers and her body was filled with his. 

“Gods” he exhaled roughly, kissing her softly. 

“Jaime” she sighed, raising her knees to wrap her legs around him. 

“I love you, Sansa” he whispered. 

“I love you” she replied, cupping his scruffy cheeks. “My Jaime.”

“Yours” he promised, rocking his hips. It had been too long for him and he was determined to make this last as long as possible. He could have used his fingers, his mouth, to pleasure her but he wanted to desperately to be inside of her he could not wait. 

He loved her slowly, their passion melting to languid pleasure as they moved together, a mess of deep kisses and gentle thrusts. Sansa, his Sansa, was beautiful. Porcelain skin and soft curves. The feeling of being inside her was indescribable, like he was simultaneously going to cheer in joy and burst into tears. Like he was home…

His hips were lost to the rhythm, moving smoothly to take her, claim her, make her his own. He had waited years for her, he would never let her go, not now that he had her. When her cries picked up he moved a hand between them, teasing her as he moved faster, harder into her slick body. He watched her as she fell apart, her breath catching as he body constricted around his own, pulling a groan from his throat and his own release from his body. 

“Jaime” she gasped as he slid deep, growling against the skin of her shoulder as he came hard enough that the edges of his vision went black before he could catch his breath. 

He rolled beside her, not wanting to crush her as his body gave out, more satisfied than he could remember being. Pleasure thrummed through his veins, every pore spilling with it. He forced himself away to deal with the condom, disposing of the sticky mess with a grimace before he moved back to the bed. 

He pulled her into his arms and she snuggled to his side as if she had been doing so for years and he exhaled in complete contentment. 

She placed a kiss over his heart, a heart that belonged to her, and he held her as she slipped into slumber. 

He must have slept, because the next thing he knew it was morning and Sansa was gone. Frowning he pushed the covers aside and pulled on his boxer briefs before venturing downstairs. He could smell the coffee from the stairs, Sansa having made it just for him, and he smiled as he poured himself a large cup. 

Carrying his mug he moved to the back deck and smiled, observing his beauty in her natural habitat. 

She wore only her black robe and a pair of black panties, the robe completely open as she fed Jo from her breast. Her porcelain skin seemed to glow in the morning light, like a woman well loved, he decided, and on her face was a look of utter contentment. 

He was going to marry her, he had decided as much long ago but here and now, he renewed his resolve. Sansa would be his wife and he would be her husband, and together they would have a large family. He wanted everything with her, vows, children, forever. All of it. 

Taking a sip of his coffee he moved to the chair beside hers, smiling over at her as they enjoyed the first morning of the rest of their lives. 

“It’s disgusting is what it is” Tyrion laughed at his elder brother who only shook his head, smiling with pride. 

“Tyrion--”

“No, truly” Tyrion sipped his glass of red wine. “Vulgar. You’ve been married 5 years Jaime” Tyrion reasoned. “She is pregnant, again. With your third child-or rather technically the fourth! Give the poor woman a break” he laughed. 

“Absolutely not” Jaime laughed, relaxed beside his brother on the deck of the lake house. He had wasted no time in marrying Sansa, partially because he wanted her to marry him and partially because she was insistent that she marry him before she started to show. Turns out his wallet-condom wasn’t as dependable as they’d hoped. It _had_ been in there a while, in his defense.

_ “Gods” Sansa gasped as she was sick for what seemed like the hundredth time. He helped her to stand and she washed her mouth as he flushed the toilet._

_ “I’m worried about you” he smoothed her hair from her face, watching her closely. They had only lived together for a short time, the study becoming his home office that allowed him to stay here the majority of each week._

_ “Don’t be” she shook her head weakly, spitting into the skin and then standing back at her full height. _

_ “You’ve been sick for weeks---”_

_ “How old was the condom in your wallet, Jaime?” she asked and he froze._

_ “You’re not---”_

_ She nodded, “Yeah” she laughed sarcastically. “You got me in the first go” she snarked and he couldn’t help but laugh._

_ “Yeah well, I was determined to keep you” he smiled, kissing her softly. “A baby, huh?”_

_ “A baby” she repeated, her smile luminous. “We’d better get married, eh?”_

_ “Time and date, I will be there” he promised._

Shortly before Jo’s second birthday, Sansa gave birth to a second daughter, Lilianna Lannister. Jaime had once again been there to hold her hand, this time kissing her softly and whispering words of love over and over as she fought to bring Lily into the world. He was the first to hold Lily, crying silently as he looked down at the miracle his wife had given him.

Jaime loved being a father. It gave him more satisfaction and happiness than decades in corporate every could. Jo was his precious princess and Lily was his adventure queen. She was constantly climbing, running or launching into trouble, her fiery ringlets bouncing as she went.

Little Addam had been planned, Sansa begging him to give her another child and he could never refuse her. Less than a year after they started to ‘try’, Addam came into the world, an exact duplicate of his father, down to bump of his nose. Addam was 2 now and followed Jaime around the house any time he could. 

As if conjured Addam ran from the house and into Jaime’s lap, his blonde hair tickling Jaime’s chin as he settled himself. 

“Addam” Sansa followed, smiling when she saw him. “Always running to your father.”

“I don’t wanna nap” Addam protested. 

“Alright my boy, then you just sit right here with Dad and get comfy” Jaime winked at his wife, knowing that it wouldn’t take long before Addam passed out cold. Then Jaime would be able to carry him to bed without a fuss.

Sansa smiled, moving to sit beside Tyrion, “He told you then” she laughed softly. 

“He did, I offer my congratulations and a reminder that you _can_ tell him ‘no’,” Tyrion said flatly and Sansa laughed. 

“Never” she smiled. 

Jaime admired his wife, watching her red hair dance in the soft breeze as she relaxed. She wasn’t showing yet, but he couldn’t wait to watch her body grow with child. Each change was fascinating and a reminder of the love they shared. 

He remembered the day she surprised him, returning to her fiery hair. Their wedding day, he smiled. 

_ Jaime stood at the make-shift altar, his brother and Jo at his side as they waited for Sansa to emerge. They had decided to marry at the lake house, inviting only a handful of people to the occasion. People who would understand their relationship and not pass judgement. _

_ Whispers reached him and he turned to see his Sansa, his almost-wife, standing tall at the edge of the deck. Her hair, he felt his jaw go slack at the sight of the rich, fiery curls that fell to her chest. Gone was the blonde and in its place was a rich red that screamed ‘Sansa’._

_ She walked toward him, her simple lace sheath dress doing well to hide the small swell of their child. His wife, his child, he smirked as she reached him._

_ “Mine” he whispered as the septon began the ceremony and she gave a watery smile. _

They enjoyed their relaxation, Addam soon slipping to sleep and Jaime carried him to his room, a room that had once been Jaime’s, and tucking him into bed. He took the chance to peek in on Jo and Lily, both of them fast asleep as well. 

Wandering through the kitchen he checked on dinner, proud of his cooking skills these days, before returning to where Sansa and Tyrion were enjoying the cool evening. This time when he sat, Sansa stood and moved to his lap, sitting across him with a smile. He kissed her quickly before placing a hand over her stomach, trying to feel the small life inside of her. 

“You know” Tyrion mused. “Tyrion isn’t a bad name for a boy.”

Sansa stared at the gravestone, hardly able to believe that her Ty had been gone nearly ten years now. She brushed a few leaves from the top and made sure the flowered were arranged properly, sparing a glance at Jaime who was entertaining five children, all antsy and restless. 

“It’s a sight, Ty” she smiled. “I tell ya.” She took a deep breath and let the breeze pass over her. “He’s a good man and I am glad you sent him to watch over Jo and I. Jaime Lannister, father of five and family man, who’d have thought” she laughed and shook her head. “You should see your Jo, she is so much like you” she blinked away tears. “And your grandchildren--Gods that sounds bad” she gave a watery laugh. “All of them are Lannisters. Sure, Lily has my hair and Will has my eyes, but I am surrounded by Lannisters, all day every day.” She sat in silence for several minutes before she stood, kissing her fingers and pressing them to the granite marker. “I love you” she promised and returned to Jaime and the children. 

“Good?” Jaime kissed her softly. 

“Yeah” she nodded. 

“I’ll be right back” he told her and then she was surrounded by children, all of them ready to go enjoy pizza for Grandpa’s birthday. Jo and Lily were crouched by a flower pot, examining the blooms and Addam, Will and little Gerold were climbing in the SUV, playing some sort of army game that she could only smile at. 

Jaime stood tall beside the grave marker, talking, though she couldn’t make out the words. Her handsome husband and the man who brought her heart back to life. She watched the children for several minutes before Jaime returned, pulling her into an embrace. They held each other for several minutes, enjoying the soothing warmth of each other as they simply existed. 

“Dad” Lily carried a bug over to Jaime, breaking their moment. “Look!”

“Oh boy, Lil” Jaime smiled. “What have you captured!”

“A bug!”

“I see that” Jaime laughed, moving away from Sansa to lift Lily into his arms. “I think we should leave the bug be and go get some pizza.”

“Yeah!” Addam and Will agreed, Gerold trailing behind them. 

“Alright gang, car” Sansa wrangled her children into the SUV, making sure that everyone was buckled in properly. 

“Hey” Jaime caught her as she moved to the passenger side. “I love you.”

“I love you too” she smiled, moving into his arms. They kissed, softly at first and then just a bit deeper before moving back. “What would you say to one more” she smirked. 

“Gods woman” he laughed. “I am nearly 50!” 

“So?” she smiled. “One more baby” she pouted. 

“Keep that up and you’ll be knocked up by midnight” he whispered, kissing her briefly before helping her into the passenger seat. 

“Promise?” she beamed as he closed the door. She smiled, knowing very well that Jaime couldn’t refuse her anything. She smirked as he slid into the driver’s seat, his hand reaching out for hers as he piloted them down the road. She watched her husband, admiring the silver in his temples and the scruff on his cheeks. 

Jaime Lannister was a hell of a man, she decided long ago. And he was all hers.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr for pic sets and more shenanigans!  
@the-red-wulf or https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/


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